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Best Poems Written by I.A. Ryd

Below are the all-time best I.A. Ryd poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | I.A. Ryd Poem

Justice Served in Blue and White

Part I: "Shadow of Intent"

Beneath the blaze of summer skies—
    A couple met by fate;
She lived where marble towers rise,
    While he bore fortune's weight.

His lady, clad in blue-white dress—
    He walked a stranger's path;
A train carved through the wilderness
    Towards her manor's hearth.

She yearned to pierce his somber shell
    Behind that shadowed gaze;
She longed to mend their fractured bond
    Through love's enchanting maze.

Through valleys deep and mountains high,
    He chased his haunted past;
A fleeting shadow caught his eye,
    As truth emerged at last.

Part II: "Crimson Revelation"

The manor stood, a ghostly frame—
    Its walls held whispered woe,
Of wealth amassed through deeds of shame,
    And lives laid low below.

The blade he bore, a justice grim,
    Yet in its weight, hearts ached;
For vengeance sung a hollow hymn,
    While souls remained opaque.

His lady trembled, reading truth
    Within his hardened stare;
Memories surged like tidal streams,
    As terror filled the air.

"My wings you clipped, my pride you stole—
    Now witness my reply,"
His sight dissolved in shadowed fray,
    As love collapsed to die.

Drenched in anguish, veins did flood;
    The killer's blade gleamed bright:
"To thee, whose greed stained kinship's blood,
    Your debt is claimed tonight."

His vengeance sealed, yet victory hollow—
    Alone he stood at dawn;
As twilight claimed the fading sun,
    His final act was drawn.

With steady hand and solemn grace,
    He turned the blade within;
His blood now stained this cursed place,
    To cleanse his mortal sin.

Part III: "Twilight's Release"

Upon the earth his form did rest,
    Now freed from mortal pain;
His spirit soared at death's behest—
    Two souls joined once again.

Ethereal shapes took form above,
    His cherished ones of old,
Who suffered noble's cruel design—
    Their tales left yet untold.

His lady dressed in white and blue,
    A child of gilded shame:
Her bloodline plotted, schemed, and slew
    His family's final frame.

Thus he exhaled his one last tear,
    Before the void descends;
And there he lay, his purpose clear—
    A peace that never ends.

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Monoku III

her ghost dances through midnight memories like sakura in winter snow

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In the Stillness of 4 AM

Your voice hits like aftershocks—
the way you'd pause
before each goodbye
(I was too scared to end it then)

Those midnight stories and stupid jokes,
painting darkness with our laughter...
Your words sparked something
I couldn't name
      but felt in my bones

I'd call for nothing,
just needing to break
through these paper-thin walls
& empty spaces
         where your voice used to live

My phone glows at 4 AM
         chances thin as winter light
I still hope it's you
         through the static
your morning voice
         half-asleep and fading
like these dreams I can't shake loose

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Eevee's Cradle Song

You beckon me at midnight's toll,
Through scratches at my wooden door;
With gentle whimpers, I console,
While you, my Eevee, wanting more.

The San Juan night looms dark and deep,
Your black and white fur catching light;
Since lockdown's day I vowed to keep
You safe through every lonely night.

The midnight hour creeps to three,
My weary eyes grow heavy now;
Yet as you curl up next to me,
Your aspin heart seals my sweet vow.

Despite my pillow's tempting call,
I rock you gently back to rest;
From streets of fear to my small hall—
A home where you'll be heaven-blessed.

Tonight you're still adjusting here,
Far from streets you used to roam;
Yet know that I am always near,
In this pandemic place called home.

And if there comes that distant day
When fate shall draw us far apart,
Though walls of stone marked out my sway,
You'll always have my gentle heart.

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Art of Avoidance

We collect unresolved arguments,
    like spare buttons in a jar—
        each one waiting for its moment
            that never arrives.

Yesterday's dishes grow cultures
    in the sink while we pretend
        not to notice, like the way we ignore
            how your toothbrush stays dry for days.

Remember how we'd marathon films all night?
    Now the TV stays dark and cold;
        our watchlist growing longer and longer—
            a queue of stories we'll never finish.

The grocery list on the fridge
    yellows at its edges:
        takeout numbers and Netflix passwords,
            four years of shared logins we'll have to untangle.

Our lease renewal sits unopened—
    a time bomb on the counter—
        while we both scroll apartments
            in separate browser windows.

We've mastered the art
    of "maybe next year" and "we'll see,"
        both too kind or too coward
            to say what our silence already knows.

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April Appreciation

More than your somewhat manly charm,
    A fragile miss resides;
Reveals a heart both cool and warm –
    Your strong persona hides.

Great voice with odd music choices,
    Rejoice, for I've arrived!
A master of soulful noises,
    Come jive and stay alive!

Endless talks since god knows when,
    Perhaps our wits are synced;
And for that Grace, I say amen –
    Give thanks and raise a drink!

Lit a closeness quaint for some,
    In awe how high we've flown;
Among the numbered days to come,
    My mate, you're not alone.

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February Flex

Between the iron's echo, seven moons have shaped  
this flesh to tempered steel—each rep a whispered vow,  
a calculus of sweat where discipline escapes  
the ghost of who I was. The mirror shows me now:  

a shadow split in two—one clawing from the past,  
one carving forward, raw, through protein, rest, and grind.  
The weights don’t judge the why, just measure what will last:  
this body, not a shrine, but proof of mind aligned  

with mornings yet to come. I lift what time can’t hold—  
not abs or arms, but will, the ache beneath the bone  
that asks, "What’s worth the pain?" The answer’s still unrolled:  
to outlift doubt, to build a self I’ve never known.

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Behind the Healer's Veil

Through smiles, I weave a golden veil,
    While hearts around me never fail
        To seek my light
        In darkest night,
    Yet none can see behind this trail.

I dance and laugh—a graceful show—
    My healing words in gentle flow
        Bring others' peace,
        As their pains cease,
    While my own shadows deeper grow.

Each day I bear this heavy crown
    Of joy I wear like morning's gown,
        To ease their way;
        Yet who can say
    What weights are pulling my soul down?

At last, I rest beneath the earth,
    No more to measure others' worth
        Through healing hands;
        Now peace expands—
    In silence finds my spirit's birth.

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A Poem For That One Girl

This is a poem for my heart's desire
An angel dancing through heaven's light
Whose presence sets my soul afire
And turns my darkness into bright

This is a poem for nature's grace
My anchor strong, yet sweetest pain
Like morning dew upon her face
Her love flows pure as summer rain

This is a poem for twilight's gem
Whose brilliance dims the stars above
Each night sky forms her diadem
While constellations speak of love

This is a poem for that rare soul
Who spins my world in perfect art
Her essence makes my life feel whole
Two rhythms beating, one shared heart

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Monoku II

unwritten pages whisper tales of unborn worlds

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